Shattered Reflection
by cracked-out
Summary: One transformation leads to another. Dean's physically a woman for half of this, and the first explicit scene is technically het--girl!Dean/Carter. Explicit slash. Kink--see header. Drug use. On LJ with different pen name.


**Shattered Reflection**

**Rating: NC-17**

**Pairing: Dean/Carter**

**Summary: One transformation leads to another.**

**Spoilers: Entire first season**

**Length: ~85K**

**Warnings/notes: So. Much. Crack. Dean is physically a woman for half of this, and the first NC-17 scene is technically het (girl!Dean/Carter). Explicit slash. Genderfuck. Drug use. On LJ with different pen name. M****any thanks to both of my betas--y'all did a hell of a job.**

Dean's really not sure what's wrong. The bust went down fine other than Amanda Martin screaming something he couldn't understand at him and waving her hands wildly. But his skin feels too tight, like he's going to bust out of it or something. And he feels hot for no good reason--not just the kind of hot that watching Carter smirk like he did right after the bust always makes him, either, although that's there too.

Carter looks a little drunk by now, but Dean's pretty sure he looks the same. Jaimie said she had to meet a friend a couple rounds ago, and Ty went home to Melissa almost as soon as the arrests were made. It's just them again, knocking back drink after drink.

All that booze is having a predictable effect, so Dean heads to the bathroom. The tightness suddenly snaps after he takes care of business. When he looks in the mirror, he doesn't see himself, but a girl who could be his sister. Doesn't feel himself, either, when he looks down and sees a nicely rounded hourglass figure nearly busting out of his tight t-shirt and jeans. Dean's in such shock that he thinks he's hallucinating, and he wants to punch the mirror for telling him something he really didn't want to know. Adding a cut-up hand to apparently being a girl doesn't sound like a good idea even to his three-quarters drunk mind, though. So he swallows the anger, rolls up his suddenly too-long jeans so he doesn't trip--_just _in case this is real--and walks out to get a second opinion from Carter.

The look of pure shock in Carter's eyes tells Dean if this is a hallucination, it's a damn good one. Either Carter's lacing his booze with some interesting chemicals, or he actually is a girl right now. Dean's really hoping for the chemicals option--he can ride out a bad trip way easier than he can deal with a sudden sex change.

The initial shock in Carter's expression fades a little, and Dean realizes Carter's checking out the curves his present outfit doesn't begin to hide. And that makes him want to hide, cover himself, do _something_ besides just stand there. He'd give a lot to have Carter check him out like that normally, but not right now when he's just reacting to his sudden change.

He may not have practical guy experience, but if Carter ever asked, he'd gladly _get_ some. Dean's never going to make the first move, though, much as he wants to. There's too much at stake to risk it.

Carter seems to snap out of his initial shock after a too-long moment. And what he says next gives Dean hope that this turn of events is fixable. "I've got a contact who deals in freaky stuff like this. Because I know damn well you're not what you look like right now, and I think I even know why. You were flirting with Amanda to help sell the deal, weren't you?"

Dean doesn't know why he's embarrassed when he answers yes. He's done more than flirt with any number of women since he's been hung up on Carter. And Amanda's hardly the first target where he's used flirtation as a weapon--hell, he's actually gone to bed with a couple of them.

"I _think_ she thought making you this would pay you back for that. Esperanza should know better than me, and I kept her daughter from doing hard time, so she'll be willing to help even this late."

Dean's watching him make the call, listening to Carter rattle off the situation in near-perfect Spanish that's almost faster than he can follow. "She'll be here in about forty-five minutes--she's got to gather some tools of the trade to make a preliminary diagnosis. Meanwhile, you want another drink?"

"Hell, yeah. I just hope I don't have a girl's tolerance now along with the parts." Dean's thinking he maybe does--he's pretty sure he's lost some weight along with the height, and he definitely feels drunker than he did a minute ago. He sits down on the couch, figuring that if he totally miscalculates and passes out, at least he'll be comfortable. He's slept there a few times.

When Carter pours him a healthy dose of whisky, he sips it rather than knocking it back the way he's been doing, in case whatever Esperanza's going to do requires him to be at least vaguely with it.

He downs two more even sipping before there's a knock on the door and a very pretty Hispanic woman he guesses is somewhere in her late forties walks in. Normally, there's no way Carter would let a stranger know where they operate from. But then, his apparently being a girl is anything _but_ normal.

She's carrying a big shoulder bag that smells vaguely like incense, so when she pulls out a bundle and a burner, he's not too surprised. He is surprised by the tarot deck and the bottle of what looks like extra-dark tea she takes out, though. She lights the incense and tells him to breathe deeply. Dean just hopes whatever it is doesn't make him pop dirty if for some reason he has to take a drug test any time soon. When she tells him to drink all the tea as fast as he can, he nearly throws up trying. It tastes strange as hell, and it's at that annoying temperature where it's too hot to be cold and too cold to be hot. He does it, though.

Finally, she asks _Carter_ to lay out what looks, going on his limited knowledge, to be a standard tarot reading. He recognizes the Death card, which would frighten him if he didn't know it could also stand for transformation. He's certainly been transformed, so he's hoping for that meaning rather than the literal one.

When she finishes studying the cards and takes a long look at him, he asks, "So what's the verdict?"

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"All of it, starting with the bad." Dean's never been one for sugar-coating any situation when blunt honesty is liable to work better. He can lie with the best of them when he needs to, but now isn't one of those times.

"The bad news--this is probably going to take at least six months to wear off and _could_ take up to a year. The good news--I _may_ have a way to take it off sooner. Whoever did this didn't do the full ritual, just the shortcut one. I'm going to have to do some research, and since you're the directly affected party, I need some way to get in touch with you other than through Carter."

Carter doesn't look happy at that. Dean's not surprised--Carter's got an insatiable need to be the one who knows everything and only tells what _he_ thinks is important. He's grateful to Esperanza for wanting to tell him directly, though. If the switchback process turns out to be something embarrassing or even illegal, he doesn't want Carter to know about it. Short of human sacrifice or rape, he doesn't care--there is _no fucking way_ he's staying like this a moment longer than he absolutely has to. He doesn't have anything against women, but he sure as hell doesn't want to _be_ one.

Dean's too drunk to drive by a long shot, but he's not staying here with Carter when Carter still can't meet his eyes. He gives Esperanza the number of his latest drop phone as she heads out and asks her if there's any way she can take him home. He doesn't actually live that far from here by LA standards, but there's no way he wants to walk it as a drunk woman, and calling a cab from their super secret headquarters would piss Carter off royally.

When Esperanza drops him off, the first thing he does is strip off everything he's got on. He's really hoping she finds a cure fast, because otherwise he's going to have to shell out some cash for girl clothes that he's never going to wear again once he's not one any more.

Dean really wants to get even drunker than he already is, but he suspects being a temporary girl means he's going to have a hell of a hangover from what he's drunk already. So instead, he drinks a couple big glasses of water, crawls into his bed naked, and does his best to go to sleep. Maybe if he's _really_ lucky, Amanda's spell is so poorly done he'll wake up a guy again.

Unfortunately for Dean, when he wakes up the next morning, he's still got girlparts, and he also has the hangover he suspected he'd have. His head is pounding, and if there was anything in his stomach _to_ throw up, he'd be hugging the toilet right now.

When the phone rings, he's tempted not to answer it because he doesn't recognize the number. But considering it _might_ be Esperanza with a solution to his present problem, he does.

His luck must be getting a little better. It _is _Esperanza, but the news she has isn't exactly what he wants to hear. The design--not a problem. Esperanza offers to have her daughter who does tats and piercings give him a henna tattoo about four days before the switchback try--it won't visibly last, but it won't smear like paint could either, and that way it'll be developed properly.

The two weeks like this--well, get some clothes that'll fit and a decent supply of booze and he can survive. After the last couple of cases, he could use a break. Because he can already tell the changes are messing with his guy-sized reflexes enough that he'd be a danger to himself and others under, at least until he can get more accustomed to his new shape and size. Nothing too major, but he's having to concentrate on things he doesn't normally. It's the last requirement that's what bothering him. Yeah, girls have sex with guys all the time, but the thought doesn't thrill him. And having to do it on the next full moon between moonrise and sunrise is going to add a little extra complexity.

Esperanza actually suggests Carter, and Dean thinks about that option for about two seconds before telling her "No way in hell." He'd rather run the safety risks of picking up a stranger than fuck up their work relationship like that. He wants Carter _bad_, but not like this. Not when Carter would more likely be reacting to his body than who he really is at best and mercy fucking him at worst.

She says, "If not him, do you have anyone else you trust enough for this? Because I don't know how long you're going to stay a girl after the sex. You _could_ even switch back in the middle."

Dean thinks hard at that. His problem is the only other guy he really trusts is Ty. And although he's sure he's slept with some married women because he never asks, he's not about to _deliberately_ fuck somebody who is. Especially since he's pretty sure Ty would freak worse than Carter did. "I'll pick someone who isn't big enough to really fuck me up if I do."

He can hear the worry in Esperanza's voice when she tells him, "If you're determined to do it that way, be _careful_. As far as I can tell, the magic shouldn't care one way or another about protection, so make damn sure you are. If this _doesn't_ work, you don't need to get pregnant on top of being a girl."

Dean thinks of something else. He's wearing the biggest T-shirt in his collection, some old sweats, and a pair of flip-flops that one of his one-nighters must have left because his new figure means that nothing else fits. Problem is, he has _no_ idea what'll look good or even fit him as a girl. He knows what he likes to see women in, but that's a little different than actually picking it for himself. "Esperanza? Could you do me a _major_ favor and take me girl clothes shopping?"

Esperanza's voice is slightly amused at that. "Not a problem. I'm assuming you need everything from head to toe, right?"

"Yeah. And picking clothes out when I have no clue what size I am or what'll look good on me now is not something I'm really looking forward to." Dean's tempted to say the 'let's go shopping together' thing kicked in with the girlparts, but given Esperanza's already agreed to help, he's not about to risk offending her like that.

"Can you be ready in about thirty minutes? I've got a friend who runs a lingerie store, and I think we'll start there. You're going to be a girl for at least a couple weeks, so you might as well be one from the inside out. After we take care of the underthings, I think we'll hit Wal-Mart for the actual clothes. You want to try some basic makeup, too? Oh, and I think your girlself would look cute with pierced ears--maybe some square clear ones or something like that. My daughter can do it for the price of the earrings."

Dean's been undercover enough times to know that choosing the right clothes is an important part of getting into character. And now that he's past the worst of the initial shock and the symptoms of his hangover aren't as bad, he's decided to treat this like a _really_ warped assignment for the sake of his sanity. He's still nowhere near looking forward to it, but considering he's probably going to be like this for a while, he might as well at least _look_ the part.

"I need shoes, too." Because there's no way he's wearing pink flip-flops for the entire time he has to put up with this.

"That's not a problem either. Wal-Mart's got some, and the one I'm planning to take you to has a regular shoe store and a work shoe store close enough you can walk to them."

Dean thinks about having earrings for a moment, and decides _what the hell_. Practically every woman he sees has them, and this being LA, a noticeable portion of the guys. He sees some pretty tough types with them sometimes, so he _might _even be able to get away with having them when he switches back. "After we get the clothes, I want the earrings too. If I'm going to be a girl for the duration, I may as well do it right."

It's probably closer to forty-five minutes than thirty when Esperanza knocks on Dean's door. He's already taken his first couple drinks for the day even if it _does _make him feel like an alcoholic to be drinking when it's barely eleven. He's not facing girl shopping stone cold sober if he can help it. This is going to be bad enough with a little alcohol fuzzing his brain.

Esperanza's got the music turned low, which Dean's head is grateful for. He's still got a pretty noticeable headache from last night. It's not too long before they come to a small brick store with a discreet sign out front that reads "Hidden Treasures".

"Normally, she's not open today because Monday tends to be slow. But we've been friends a long time," Esperanza explains as they walk in.

The rainbow of colors and sizes nearly overwhelms Dean. He's grateful that he's got a native guide, because the thought of doing this solo...Hell, doing it even _with_ Esperanza just feels _wrong_. Given his usual pickup habits, it's not like he spends any time lingerie shopping with the women in his life.

Esperanza tells her friend, "She needs both bras and panties and isn't sure exactly what size she is right now. And Dean, this is Alicia," giving the name its Spanish pronunciation.

Her friend just says, "Pleasure to meet you" while she digs out a measuring tape. Having his girl measurements taken is a very odd feeling. Alicia says, "You're lucky. Your measurements mean you can get away with almost anything style-wise. Do you have any idea about styles or colors you like?"

"No white, pink, or florals," Dean says immediately. He may have the parts, but he's not getting _that_ femme if he can help it. This is seriously messing with his head already. He really wishes he'd had a few more shots beforehand, because the Jack's wearing off way too fast. He thinks a moment about what he's seen on his pickups and adds, "Maybe one skin-colored one so it won't show through if I'm wearing something light colored. I'm more interested in comfortable than flat-out sexy, but if you can do both, it'd be cool."

He is, after all, going to have to pick some random guy up in a couple weeks, and he might as well have something reasonably pretty under his clothes for that, odd as that thought is. He's definitely not looking forward to it, other than hoping he's going to be a guy again afterwards. If this is any indication of what being a girl's going to be like, he wants his usual parts back _now_.

Alicia looks like she's making a visual assessment before she selects several bras and points him to the fitting room. He's surprised to learn he actually likes the effect of extra cleavage caused by the patterned dark green push-up she picked when he just thinks about what he looks like as opposed to who he actually is. The basic smooth beige one also fits well, and the lack of underwires makes it feel the most _physically_ comfortable . He likes the _color_ of the burgundy, but the actual style doesn't work that well. The black--well, he can deal, but he'd rather have something styled a little differently on that too. He still _feels_ wrong doing this, but at least he doesn't _look_ it.

He pulls his T-shirt back on and shows Alicia what worked and what didn't and does his best to explain _why_. She just nods and says, "Breasts are so individual that I'm used to having clients go through many options," as she makes the next round of selections. This set works--he's now got dark green, burgundy, black, and beige, all of which are at least reasonably comfortable, and a couple of which would really turn him on if they were on somebody else's body. On him--he thinks a neutral observer might enjoy the visuals too, but seeing his body this explicitly _female_ is just freaking _him_ the fuck out.

"Time to try panties on now. This is why disposable liners are a great invention."

This goes better, at least as far as fit goes. What his head feels like doing something this femme is an entirely different story. Apparently he's close enough to a standard size to pretty much fit _whatever_ they pick out in that size. He goes with mostly matching ones, because he's always liked it when girls' underwear matches their bras and he figures whoever he ends up with for the switchback try will probably appreciate it too. As for style, he finds thongs are surprisingly comfortable as long as he avoids the ones with the skinny straps. He also gets a couple of boyshorts with lace edging, because the styling reminds him of the boxer briefs that he usually wears as a guy when he bothers to wear underwear at all, and the almost-familiarity is slightly comforting.

He's grateful for his latest undercover bonus when he sees the total. He's just dropped almost two hundred and fifty dollars on something he's unlikely to ever get any use out of when he switches back--and that he's probably going to want to get rid of immediately so he doesn't have reminders. He thanks Alicia for opening up on her day off as they leave.

When they get to Wal-Mart, he throws himself completely on Esperanza's mercy. "Still don't want pink or florals, but I can live with white clothes. You saw what colors worked on me at Alicia's and roughly what size I am, so help, please," as he gives her the most pitiful look he can manage.

Esperanza just smiles as she grabs a cart. Anything Dean nods at, they grab a variety of sizes in. Other than one lace-over-solid tank top that he figures he'll use for hitting on some random guy when he has to, he sticks to t-shirts. He's still wearing one of the pairs of underwear he just bought so he can try jeans on. He's a little surprised that what jeans size he wears depends so much on style, because usually he can just pick waist and length and be pretty sure they'll fit. When they've gotten enough that he shouldn't have to do more than one laundry run as a girl, they head to the cosmetics department.

Even for the sake of looking the part, he's not _about_ to try eye makeup, but he figures the foundation, blush, lip stuff combo shouldn't be that hard, at least application-wise. Looking at himself in the mirror is probably going to be the worst part--he still keeps expecting to see his guyself there and being shocked by what he looks like now. Esperanza points out the kinds she likes and he just goes with that for the foundation and blush. He gets a little more creative with the lipstick and gloss--buys some 18-hour in a dark red, a couple of pinks and another shade of red in an on-sale brand, and clear and sparkly glosses when she suggests he may want a top coat.

He's always gone for fairly neutral scents for things like body wash and shampoo, so he doesn't think he needs to buy any of that. He does need shoes, though. He gets a couple pairs of sandals for bumming around, but he doesn't like any of the closed-toe shoes. He buys a cheap pair of running shoes anyway, because he wants to be able to work out while he's like this. If there's a possibility he's going to be a girl for a _year_, he wants to get as comfortable as he can in this skin. He gets a sports bra and some workout gear for the same reason.

And then he has an inspiration--if he can get a pair of steel-toes that _look_ decent, he'll have an extra hidden weapon in case his pickup attempt goes bad. "Esperanza--you mentioned there was a work shoe place around here, right? Because I think having some stylish steel-toes would be a good thing."

When Dean pays for everything, the total makes him wince inwardly. Especially since he knows good boots aren't going to be cheap. On the other hand, if he's going to be this shape for at least a couple of weeks and maybe a lot longer, he _needs_ it.

Esperanza takes him to get some boots. He tries a few pairs on and ends up going with a pair of black Durangos that are surprisingly comfortable. Apparently the girlthing is affecting his mind already, because he actually thinks they're cute, too.

Dean's tired after their marathon shopping expedition, but he thinks that should cover the basics clothes-wise. He still wants the earrings as a finishing touch, though, so Esperanza takes him to the shop where her daughter Alex works. Dean checks out the piercing studs available. The little ones don't really catch his eye, but some slightly larger square studs do.

Alex just nods at Dean's choice. The actual process doesn't hurt as much as Dean was expecting. She warns him he'll need to leave the studs in for at least six weeks as well as clean and turn them frequently.

After Esperanza shows her the design Dean needs on his skin, Alex pulls up her T-shirt to show off a beautifully intricate dark red pattern drawn across her belly and side.

"That's what a henna tat from the hands of someone who knows what they're doing looks like. What you're wanting isn't that fancy, but you might decide you like the effect enough to get another one, or even a permanent one. If you do, keep me in mind."

"I will. It's going to be a few days before I want the henna--do I need to set an appointment or anything?" Dean's never done body mod before--going under with identifying marks isn't the smartest thing in the world.

"Call first. That design shouldn't take too long, so I can squish you in as a favor to Mom without a major problem. Be prepared--the paste has to stay on your skin for at least an hour to properly develop and longer is better, so if you want it on your arm, come wearing something sleeveless."

When he hears that, Dean plans to buy a cheap tank top for this. He's not risking smearing henna paste on the lace one he already has.

Alex rings him up for the studs and a bottle of disinfectant. She hands him a business card with his change.

Esperanza takes him home afterwards and stays long enough to demonstrate the basics of putting on makeup, because Dean really doesn't want to look like a clown if he can help it. He's surprised to find out he actually kind of enjoys the intimacy of having someone else make him up. In the back of his head, he wonders if Carter ever watched Nicole do this.

He's taken enough bras _off_ to have a reasonable idea how to put one on, and everything else he bought is close enough to guy stuff that he shouldn't have a problem. Once she's satisfied with Dean's application skills, Esperanza drives him over to the loft to get his car. On the way over, she tells him to call if he has questions.

When he gets home, Dean really needs a drink. He's barely settled in with his first glass of Jack when the phone rings. He checks the caller ID and swears. He really doesn't want to talk to Carter right now, but he knows from experience that Carter will just keep calling.

"What the fuck do you want, Carter? It damn well better be important, because I was in the middle of a conference with Mr. Jack Daniels." Maybe he _should_ be worried about how unprofessional that sounds, but fuck, he's a girl right now partly because of Carter, so he doesn't give a shit.

"Be sober by tomorrow afternoon. I called in a few favors and got you set up for some shooting and hand-to-hand retraining for your present size starting tomorrow. You're also getting girl fake ID, so bring something you don't mind being photographed in."

Dean would be a lot more pissed at Carter trying to run his life if he didn't think all of that was a good idea. Hopefully he'll be back to normal in two weeks, but if the worst-case scenario happens and he's a girl for a year, he wants to know exactly what he can do both unarmed and with a gun in his hands. And even if this only lasts two weeks, he's going to need the ID. Hell, given he's got to pick some stranger up, the physical stuff isn't going to hurt even for the short version. "I'll be sober tomorrow, but I think I deserve getting drunk off my ass tonight."

Carter laughs a little at that. "Yeah, I'm going to be doing some conferencing too. Having my best undercover guy temporarily be a girl is cause for several rounds by itself. By the way, are you going to have to wait for this to wear off?"

"Don't know for sure. Esperanza came up with something that she _thinks_ will work, but it's still going to be a couple weeks and involves some preparation. And no, you do _not_ get details beyond it's not illegal." He knows Carter would throw a fit at the sex part of the switchback try, so he's trying to head off that line of questioning now.

"If whatever you try _doesn't_ work, I'll ask Esperanza if she can come up with a more accurate guess than six months, maybe a year. I doubt you want to explain this to either Jaimie or Ty, but I already know. So you could probably still work with me once you get more adjusted to the physical differences, as long as you have some idea when you're going to be a guy again."

Dean's anticipating more questions later about what exactly it's going to take for the switchback try, but he's grateful that Carter isn't pressing for more right now.

Carter hangs up after telling Dean he'll be over at one and to actually put something in his stomach besides booze.

Normally, Dean wouldn't bother, but he's already found out his tolerance isn't what it was. He already knows there's nothing in the fridge, but when he opens the freezer, there's a couple TV dinners next to the bottle of McCormick vodka.

He heats one up and washes it down with more Jack. He's already feeling a little buzzed, so he brings the bottle to bed with him. Just in case, he sets his alarm for tomorrow--he doesn't want to be asleep for Carter's visit. Carter gets nasty when it comes to waking people up.

Dean wakes up a little before the alarm's set to go off. He's actually hungry--apparently the girlthing is messing with his metabolism too, because he _never_ normally wants to eat right when he wakes up. He can't face another TV dinner right now, so he pulls some clothes on and heads to the _taqueria_ down the street for some breakfast tacos.

Once he's eaten, he heads back to his apartment. If Carter's taking him to the firing range, Dean needs to know which of his guns he can use. He pulls out the collection. The first one he tries is his favorite 9mm. He can still handle the weight, but it's not sized quite right now. Apparently his hands shrunk a little with the change.

That gives him an idea, though. He tries his backup 9 and one of his smaller .45s, both of which work fine when he empties the bullets out and dry-fires them. For the moment, that should be good enough to practice with.

He picks out an outfit he doesn't mind being temporarily immortalized in before throwing his new workout gear in a duffel bag. He's got a carrying case for the guns, so that's not a problem.

Carter calls from the parking lot to warn him he's coming up. Dean unlocks the door just as Carter knocks. "Still a girl--unfortunately." They collect Dean's stuff before locking up and heading out.

Carter takes Dean to a contact he doesn't name but who's obviously in the fake documentation business from the equipment she's got. She's businesslike as she asks Dean what he needs. Carter's cell rings then, and Dean hears him say, "What's up, Ty?" as he steps out of the room for some privacy. Dean takes advantage of the opportunity to add a few sets of fake business cards to the basic ID package that he's already asked for.

When she finishes, his new paperwork says he's Deanna Austin and looks letter-perfect. He's even got concealed-carry permits and gun licenses for the two guns he brought. She waves off his offer of payment. "I owe Carter a favor and he said this would cancel it, so we're good."

Carter comes back in a few moments after that. "All squared away?"

"Meet Deanna Austin. Your friend does good work."

Carter's contact smiles at that as they leave.

Their next stop is a little firing range that Dean's never been to. Dean pulls out his brand-new ID and licenses for inspection before getting protective equipment on and starting to fire away. He's not quite as accurate as he usually is, but he can already tell getting back to normal here isn't going to be that difficult. At least some of it is simply that he's not using the weapon he's most familiar with. And frankly, blowing holes in targets is rather therapeutic right now. Carter lets him shoot until he's almost back to his usual level and his hands are starting to feel a little sore before thanking the guy running the place for opening up early.

Dean recognizes the name of the gym Carter takes him to next. One of his occasional informants told him they specialize in practical self-defense for women and offer their services on a sliding scale basis for abuse survivors. He's not sure what Carter told them, so he just smiles when two very fit people tell him they're going to be doing their best to make sure he can defend himself. Even though the woman is only about 5'2", she still looks like she could probably kick some ass if she needed to. The guy's about Dean's normal size. Dean excuses himself briefly to change into his workout gear.

When they start actually working with him, Dean starts to worry about what's going to happen if the design and the sex _aren't_ enough to switch him back in two weeks. The height and muscle changes have completely messed up his unarmed reflexes. He's pretty sure this would be easier if he'd been this size from day one, because he's used to being able to do things that he simply cannot do now. He's hoping that enough practice in his present body will readjust his guy-sized reflexes, but he's not counting on it.

He recognizes some of the basic moves they're trying to drill into him. Basically, they're trying to teach him how to fight dirty, which makes sense considering almost anyone he's going to be up against is going to be bigger and stronger. Going straight up with someone out of your weight class is hardly ever a good idea, and they're not trying to claim it is. Most of what they're working with him on is ways to inflict enough damage to break free and run like hell. He _might_ even be able to use some of this when he switches back, because he's fought some giant large economy size guys before and taken a licking doing it.

He's tired as hell by the time they finally say "We're done for the moment. See you again this time tomorrow." Carter comes out of nowhere to collect him. Dean doesn't even bother changing back into his street clothes. Carter's seen him looking worse than this before--hell, Carter's seen him in street person disguise, so a little sweat is hardly going to faze him.

On the way home, Carter asks him, "So are you going to be able to work if whatever you're carefully avoiding telling me _doesn't_ work and you have to wait for this to wear off by itself?"

"I honestly don't know. I'm not worried about shooting, but I'm not entirely sure I can fight unarmed. I'm used to being several inches taller and quite a few pounds heavier, and it's affecting that pretty severely." Dean's not sure honesty is the best policy here, but he doesn't want to endanger himself or the rest of the team by going under when he's not entirely up for it.

Carter sounds like he was half expecting that when he replies, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Consider yourself on paid vacation until it comes time to try to switch back. I do expect you to practice both unarmed and shooting, though. And I know you don't do paperwork, but if you get bored enough, call me and I'll set you up with some support stuff to do. Jaimie and Ty are both under and probably will be for at least a week if not longer, so you shouldn't need to worry about having to explain this."

Carter drops Dean off with a "Good luck. Take care of yourself, and if you need anything--besides being yourself again--feel free to call any time."

Dean takes a quick shower and changes into some lounging clothes before collapsing in front of the TV. He puts it on something suitably mindless before breaking out the Jack. After the day he's had, he thinks he deserves a little alcoholic relaxation. He falls asleep for a while and wakes up to realize he's hungry again. Pizza delivery sounds tempting, but he's not comfortable having his contact information in a system that probably isn't that secure, especially since right now he isn't _him_ on the outside.

He bites the bullet and makes a quick grocery run for the bare necessities. He buys more than he normally would, because judging from today, he's going to need it. He's a little surprised that he's actually hungrier as a smaller girl than he is as a guy. On the other hand, his booze tolerance is substantially lower, so maybe food's taking up room that would usually be filled with alcohol.

Dean eats a potpie, washing it down with juice because he's already buzzed enough that more Jack doesn't seem like a good idea right now. He watches a little more TV before the day catches up to him enough to make him decide to go to bed.

He's still a girl when he wakes up the next morning, which doesn't entirely surprise him. He's nowhere near _used_ to it and doesn't want to be, but his desire to get drunk off his ass about it is decreasing. If he's still got girlparts after the switchback try, he can freak then.

Today's nearly a repeat of yesterday, minus the identification trip. His shooting's close enough to his standard to not be dangerous if he can just get the unarmed part under control. It's a little easier today, which gives him hope that if he _does _have to be this size for longer than a couple weeks, he can still function well enough to do his job.

When he gets home, he can already tell that boredom's going to be the real killer. He lasts three more days before finally giving in and calling Carter to see if his support offer still holds. Paperwork's as boring as ever, but at least he's out of his apartment and feeling marginally useful. And Carter stays and keeps him company, which is definitely a bonus. Aside from asking how how he's doing retraining his skills, Carter's treating him pretty much the same as always. He's obviously gotten past the _what the fuck_ stage already. Dean's relieved that Carter's reacting to _him_ again and not to what he temporarily looks like.

The rest of the time before his switchback try passes pretty much the same way as the previous day. He's very surprised that he's developing an appreciation for sexy underwear that goes beyond the visual, though. Yeah, bras suck and he has a new sympathy for women since they have to deal with them all the time, but the feel of the kinds of fabric the panties he got are made of turns him on at random moments. Apparently he's got a little kink or something. Dean thinks he'd probably be a lot more upset about that if being a girl at least parts-wise wasn't pretty much soaking up all his ability to give a shit.

He gets the henna done a few days before the full moon so it has time to develop. He also practices with a couple rental shotguns to make sure he can still handle one if he needs to. His shooting's pretty much back to normal, and although he's still not exactly expert at the unarmed side, he's fairly sure he can at least handle the hurt 'em and run method. If he _doesn't_ switch back, he plans to keep practicing both as much as possible until he's as good as he's going to get.

The night of the full moon, Dean calls Jaimie around six--he's planning on picking up some guy later that evening, getting fucked, and getting out of there as fast as he can. Hell, he _might_ even be able to do this in the bathroom or out back--there's no way he's bringing some random guy to his place. He'd _like_ to do this with Carter, but for a lot of reasons he thinks it's better if he picks somebody he doesn't have to deal with when he switches back. He's not even thinking _if_, because possibly having to spend a year like this doesn't sound fun.

He doesn't mind _every_ aspect of being a girl. He's found out he actually kind of likes the lipstick/gloss thing, especially the intimacy of someone else putting it on, but he never wants to wear foundation again after tonight. Even the hypoallergenic stuff doesn't feel that good on. And reaching the right balance between clownish and too-pale with blush is _also_ something he never wants to have to do again, especially since putting makeup on means he has to look at his girlself in the mirror, which is _still _a shock even after two weeks. No more bras sounds like a truly wonderful thought--he may have gotten the good kind, but they're still annoying. He's going to try keeping the earrings once he switches back, though. Yeah, they're something of a safety risk in a fight, but as long as he sticks to studs, he figures the risk's not going to be _too_ high, and he kind of likes the look.

The makeup thing is _part_ of why he's calling Jaimie. Most of why, though, is because he wants someone there with him, both to serve as a second opinion for who to pick and in case something goes wrong, to be able to ID the guy afterwards.

He's glad he thought to buy some stylish steel-toes for tonight. If he has to, kicking a guy with those is going to _hurt._ He's not a _tiny_ girl, but his height and muscle changes are enough to mean that even after his down-and-dirty lessons in how to fight as a girl, he still isn't going to be able to take most guys head-to-head. And it's not like he can go in carrying firepower.

Jaimie answers, "Do we have a case?"

"No. I need you to do me a favor. Come over to my place and then go out with me tonight." Dean knows this is going to sound like he's trying to get back with her, but he doesn't know how to phrase this that _won't_ sound like he is. He's grateful his voice hasn't changed much--he's got a fairly low one for a woman, so he _should_ still pretty much sound like himself.

"Are you trying to hit on me?" Jaimie sounds like she's not liking that idea much. Dean would feel insulted if he didn't pretty much agree that despite it being good sex, them together was not going to be the love match of the century. He's been at least a little hung up on Carter almost since he joined his team, and when him and Jaimie started, she was not in the best emotional state for anything _besides_ sex.

"Not today, honey. Look, just come over. This isn't something I can really explain over the phone." Which is true--Jaimie's going to need to see him as a girl beforehand. If she freaks, well, girls have been picking up guys solo for quite a while now--he just doesn't want to. And there's no way in _hell_ he's asking Carter, or even Ty. He's not sure how Jaimie's going to react, but he's just about _positive_ that Ty would freak. And Carter would never let him do this. He had enough trouble already when he told Carter that there was a way to switch back tonight, but that the details were private. Carter's already called twice, and since he ignored both, Dean's just hoping he doesn't actually come over.

When Jaimie comes over, Dean lies through his teeth that this is for a case and Carter already knows about it. Given the physical changes, Jaimie looks pretty skeptical, but she seems willing to accept Dean's story for now. He has her do his makeup because his application skills _still_ aren't the best. He thinks this might be a good time to test the 18-hour lipstick's no-smear promises in case he actually ends up kissing his pickup.

Once he's made up and dressed as sexy as he can handle being, they head out to a relatively close bar that Dean knows is a meat market. All he's interested in is hopefully getting switched back by somebody who's not the next Ted Bundy.

Dean tested out the girlparts earlier today, which was a really weird feeling. Yeah, he's used to feeling girls get wet when he fingers them, but it's an entirely different experience when _he's_ the one feeling that. He manages to come by thinking about Carter doing X-rated things to his guy self. So yeah, everything works, but if he actually enjoys this, he'll be happily surprised.

When they actually get to Sazon, they find a table and order a round of drinks. Jaimie checks her cell phone after the first round of shots, only to disappear. Dean's really hoping she's not going to call Carter--he's got his number on ignore after getting three more calls while he was getting ready.

Dean looks over the available talent once he's slammed a couple more shots of Dutch courage. One of the guys sitting at the bar catches his eye. College kid type, looks to be a couple inches taller than Dean in boots, and on the wiry side. The blue hair and lip ring mean that Dean's hair and arm tat aren't likely to faze him and might even be a draw. Him being cute--well, that's not what he's _looking _for, but it might be a nice bonus.

Dean realizes College Boy's noticing him checking him out when he comes over and sits down. "Would you like a drink? I know it's the oldest line there is, but hey, nothing wrong with old school in my book."

Dean's been drinking some supposedly non-alcoholic fruit concoction the bartender makes after getting tipsy enough from the three shots that he doesn't want to freak out about this whole situation.

His latest is almost empty, and this kid isn't sending signals that he wants anything besides getting laid, so Dean says sure.

They trade the classic name and what d'you do for cash and for fun info over their drinks. College Boy's a guitarist named Ryan Evans according to the business card for his band Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse, and he really is a college boy--junior business major at UCLA.

Dean's glad he thought ahead and got Carter's contact to fake him up some business cards. He hands Ryan one that says he's Deanna Austin, independent security contractor. The number goes straight to the voicemail on one of Carter's drop phones, so if Ryan actually calls after tonight, he's covered.

Dean's thinking _fuck this shit. I'm just going to hit on this guy. Isn't making my instincts scream, is acting interested and is actually even cute_, when Jaimie comes back from wherever she was to see him leaning into Ryan and stroking his thumb over the kid's palm. Judging from the calluses on the kid's hands, the guitar playing is probably even the truth and not just a line to get girls who like musicians, not that Dean really cares.

Jaimie looks shocked to Dean, but she's covering it well enough that Ryan doesn't seem to notice. She probably thinks Ryan's a target, and she's being professional by not blowing Dean's cover. Or so he hopes until he glances towards the door and realizes Carter's looking straight at them.

_Shit. This is exactly what I __**didn't **__want. I don't want a pity fuck from Carter. I'd rather have nothing than have to face him at work after that. And there's no way in hell he's going to let me do what I need to do with Ryan now._ Jaimie obviously spilled the beans that Dean's not exactly himself--probably made the call as soon as she disappeared, because Dean was already a little buzzed then.

Carter looks pissed--and _maybe_ even a little jealous. Dean thinks that it's too much to ask for that Carter actually _wants_ him in this skin. There's always been some tension there, but there's also too much riding on being able to work together for them to have ever done anything about it. Carter's waded through the crowd to sit down at the fourth chair at their table. "What the fuck are you thinking? Do you even _know_ this guy?"

Dean's pissed. "You are not my dad. You are not my boyfriend. You don't get to pick who I fuck, Carter."

Jaimie shakes her head at that, saying "You guys are being weirder than usual. I'm not dealing with your shit when I'm not even being paid for it." Dean's not surprised when she gets up and heads for the door.

He's not surprised when Ryan says, "Hey, Deanna, if you get your ex off your back, give me a call. Right now I think you need to talk," as he leaves either. Dean's really tempted to kiss Ryan just to _completely_ piss Carter off, but Ryan doesn't deserve to be collateral damage. Kid hasn't done anything except try to get laid, and that's no crime. If it was, he'd have been locked up a long time ago.

Carter still looks pretty pissed, but he also looks like he's putting the pieces of a puzzle together. The combination is worrying Dean. Him being a drunk girl and hitting on a strange guy _shouldn't_ make Carter immediately think that he's trying the guy thing to switch back, but he's not entirely sure if Esperanza kept her mouth shut like she said she would.

Dean's not expecting Carter's next move. "Come home with me and I'll do right by you. Whatever you need."

"Oh? And if what I need is to get some guy to fuck me so I can be _me_ again? I don't want a pity fuck, Carter. And you already scared Ryan off."

Carter seems to be thinking, and what he says next makes Dean think he might actually have a point. "What if you switch back right away? You want to deal with that with someone who's probably going to freak? I _know_ you're not really a girl."

"And what do _you_ get out of the deal?" Dean challenges.

"I don't have to worry about those instincts of yours failing this time and you picking someone who'll fuck you up. And hell, Dean, sometimes I just want to get laid by somebody Idon't have to lie to. Trust me, you're not a pity fuck for me by a long shot."

"This makes it weird at work, I get to say _I told you so_ forever, and if it gets _so_ weird we can't work together, you owe me the best recommendation ever." Maybe Carter being that blunt shouldn't be attractive, but hell, Dean's not _actually_ a girl, parts aside. And he can sympathize with the whole lying-to-get-laid thing. It was one of the big reasons behind him and Jaimie getting together, at least for him. "But okay, take me home and _do right by me_."

Carter asks Dean on the ride to his house, "Is there anything ritual-wise we need to do besides the actual sex?"

"I went over the whole thing with Esperanza. Got the design on my arm, just need the fuck to finish it off. She said she didn't _think_ protection would matter one way or the other to the magic, just to me. So I hope you've got rubbers, because if this doesn't work, there's no way in _hell_ I'm having a kid."

Dean's a little nervous as they walk in the door. Yeah, he's tested out the equipment, and yeah, it works, but that's not the same as actually being in bed with Carter. He's been with chicks who pretty much couldn't come from fucking, and it'd be just his luck to be one of them.

Carter seems to be trying to ease that nervousness. Once they get into his bedroom, he starts kissing Dean, slow, easy, and closed-mouth. Dean's vaguely offended that Carter's treating him like some virgin or something, even though in this department he kind of is. So he steps it up a notch and licks along Carter's lips, trying to get him to open his mouth. Dean's been told he's a good kisser before, but when Carter takes the cue to start French-kissing him, he's impressed.

Carter finally breaks the kiss to nibble along Dean's earlobe. It feels really good but really weird when he uses his tongue to play with Dean's earring. He's got his hands under Dean's tank top in the back, drawing slow circles that Dean _thinks_ are meant to reassure him. They are, but they're kind of turning him on, too. Which was probably also Carter's intent. After a long moment, Carter licks his way down Dean's neck and then follows the scoop of Dean's top to the middle of his cleavage.

That's when Dean decides _what the hell. This feels good so far, and I'd rather not be standing up for the rest of it._ He gets his steel-toes off first, though. He definitely doesn't want them getting in the way. He shoves the covers down and lays down on his back. Carter joins him, lying next to him on his side.

Carter slides his hands back underneath Dean's tank top, giving Dean a long look as he does. Dean recognizes that look from giving it to women--it's _can I take this off_? He nods, and Carter does just that. He brushes the sides of Dean's breasts as he does, and even that brief contact through Dean's pushup bra feels pretty damn good. When he sees what Dean's wearing underneath, his mouth curves in an appreciative smile. Dean hadn't really been planning on getting that smile from _Carter_, but he _had_ been planning on what to wear for maximum visual effect. He's even got the matching panties on.

Carter runs a knuckle down Dean's crotch as he opens up his jeans and slides them out from under his hips. Dean can feel himself getting wetter from that, which is still a strange sensation even after road-testing the equipment. He's _way_ more used to getting hard when he's turned on, after all.

Carter's still fully dressed except for his shoes, and the contrast makes Dean want to even things up. "You going to do this with all your clothes on? Hardly seems fair."

Dean's a combination of amused and aroused when Carter takes the opportunity to make a visual tease out of this. No, he's not dancing like a stripper, but the way he's taking his sweet time getting his clothes off is sexier than a lot of the girls Dean's seen shake their asses. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs, asking Dean a question with the look in his eyes. This time it's Dean nodding as Carter gets all the way naked. _Carter's got nothing to be ashamed of there_ is the first thought through Dean's brain. The second is _I wonder what that's going to feel like inside of me_.

When Carter's back on the bed, he unhooks Dean's bra, letting Dean finish the job of taking it off. Dean's always had pretty sensitive nipples, but apparently the girlthing cranked that up, because he nearly comes off the bed when Carter takes one between his teeth as he's pinching the other one. Carter just smiles smugly, like he knew Dean was going to react like that. Carter keeps playing with his nipples for a bit as his other hand moves to stroke Dean between his legs. Dean's already damn near soaked through his panties from what Carter's done to him so far, and that move makes him let out a little moan.

Especially since Carter's using the fabric to tease him some more. Dean wants to know what that'd feel like with nothing in the way, not even the lace, and he says so in no uncertain terms. He's too damn turned on to be nervous any more. He wonders briefly if Carter does guys this well, and if he's ever going to get a chance to find out.

Carter pulls Dean's panties down his legs. Dean kicks them off. Any rational thought Dean might have had left disappears when Carter opens him up and dives in like Dean's an all-you-can-eat buffet and he's starving. Carter doesn't quit until he's come enough times that he's damn near fucked out without ever actually getting fucked. _Carter wasn't kidding he'd do right by me--now I know why all those chicks I've been with really love it when I go down on them _is the first thought through Dean's sex-drugged head afterwards.

Carter's licking the last traces of Dean off his lips as he reaches into the nightstand and pulls out a couple condoms. He opens one up and hands it to Dean. Dean's never done this for someone else, but he _has_ put one on himself enough times that his hands are steady as he rolls it on Carter.

Dean's not sure how they're working this position-wise, but Carter answers that question when he lays flat on his back and pulls Dean over him, hands on his hips. He uses his hands to guide Dean into the proper position, but he lets Dean have the control when it comes to how fast he wants Carter's cock in him. Dean's not really taking his time here--he's still practically dripping from the foreplay, and he's got a pretty high pain tolerance besides. He's surprised at how good this actually feels. Hell, he _might _even come again.

Once Dean's adjusted, Carter uses his hands to help him move for the first few thrusts. And then he takes one off and starts playing with what must be his clit, judging from the bursts of pleasure shooting through him. Dean would be a little embarrassed at how much noise he's making if he wasn't pretty sure Carter's getting off on it.

They're both too damn hot to last very long. Dean comes first, but not by much. When Carter pulls out, ties off the condom, and throws it on the floor somewhere, Dean takes the opportunity to find a comfortable position. Apparently _some_ things carry over from being a guy, because Dean's out almost immediately.

When he wakes up with a hard-on, Dean's repeating "Fuck...fuck...fuck" under his breath as he tries to disentangle himself from the mess of limbs they've somehow gotten into. He's wanted Carter long enough that it isn't the guy-guy thing that's bothering _him_. He's worried about Carter's reaction, though. Because despite the tension that's always been there, he's not sure if _Carter_ can handle his being a guy again.

His efforts to get free wake Carter. Dean's first thought when he looks at Carter is _I'd love a chance to see Carter like this again, as relaxed as he ever gets. Hell, I'd love to have a chance to __**make**_ _him look like that again, too_. Because Carter looks a lot the same half-asleep as he does after sex--half-lidded eyes and a slightly dazed look on his face. It makes him look kind of adorable, although he's not about to _tell_ Carter that.

Carter finally saying something snaps him out of that train of thought. And _what_ he says surprises Dean--and gets his hopes up that his switch back isn't going to be a deal-breaker. Carter's sleep-roughened voice turns him on even more as he says, "So you have a dick again. Congratulations. Now can I go back to sleep, or do you want to celebrate?" He gives Dean a long look then.

Dean looks back at him, realizing there's nothing but sleepiness and banked heat in Carter's eyes--not the negative reaction he was half-expecting.

And when Carter speaks again, he realizes there isn't going to be. "Dean, I went to bed with _you_--not your temporary girl parts. Yeah, they were fun to play with, and yeah, I did it partly to try to switch you back, but I wouldn't have if I didn't think your guy parts would be just as much fun." Carter's honesty goes straight to Dean's dick.

Carter smirks a little at Dean's expression. He shoves the covers off both of them before pushing Dean flat on his back. Carter still looks pretty sleepy, but there's _intent_ there, too.

He starts working his way down Dean's body, exploiting all the hot spots he found last night and taking his time about it. Carter caring enough to remember them gets Dean even hotter.

And when Carter starts actually going down on him, Dean can't help making some noise. Because Carter's obviously done this before--he's damn good at it. Maybe that should make him more jealous than it does, but it's not like he's a virgin either except to the whole guy thing, depending on whether or not last night counts.

He's surprised he's got enough mind left to care, frankly. When Carter pulls off for a brief moment to lick his own fingers, Dean's pretty sure where this is going. And he's all for it. Yeah, he's never done the guy thing, but he's had a few women finger him, and on one memorable occasion, let one peg him, so he knows he likes it. Likes it a lot, actually. Carter's taking his time about this, too, working one finger in slowly.

It hurts a little because spit isn't the best lube and he doesn't usually do this, but when Carter crooks that finger just right, the pain's drowned out by the spikes of pleasure rushing through him.

When Carter slides his mouth all the way down and presses against that same spot from outside, Dean comes _hard_. His whole body's tingling with aftershocks, especially since Carter's still swallowing around his dick.

Carter finally stops just as Dean's getting too sensitive to take any more. He looks up at Dean as he pulls his mouth off. He's staring at Dean's mouth hard. There's enough embarrassment in that look to make Dean think that Carter isn't just wanting _him_ to go down.

And when he licks his lips slowly and tastes the 18-hour lipstick he was experimenting with last night, Dean's pretty sure _why_ Carter's embarrassed. Yeah, liking a little bit of genderfuck is pretty harmless as far as he's concerned, but it _is_ a kink, and one Carter's maybe not entirely comfortable with. Hell, it _might _even be one he didn't realize he had. Not like going to bed with a girl and waking up with a guy is exactly standard procedure.

Dean doesn't really care. If it gets him laid like this, he'll exploit that possible kink for all it's worth. He's actually wondering what Carter would think of some sexy panties. Maybe this _should_ bother his macho side, but considering Carter just blew him and even swallowed, Carter definitely knows Dean's not a girl even if he was one for a couple weeks.

And his time in a woman's body left him with an appreciation for how sensual the right kind of fabric can feel on delicate parts. He's not even really worried about how to get his hands on some that will fit his present body. This is fucking _LA_, there's got to be a store somewhere that caters to guys who like girls' clothes at least sometimes. And he bets they'll know where to get lipstick or gloss without freaking the salespeople out, too. He's still got some left from being a girl, but if he's indulging Carter's kinks, he might want to invest in a wider range of colors because he just went with the basics then.

He'd be surprised if it freaked _Carter_ out. They usually read each other well enough to pick up unspoken cues when their lives depend on it, after all.

Speaking of unspoken cues--he looks over at Carter and sees he's still turned on. He's actually a little surprised Carter didn't interrupt his pause for thought. Dean's hesitant to really blow him yet, but licking Carter's dick as a tease before jacking him off sounds like something he can handle.

When he starts doing just that, trying a few tricks _he's_ always liked, the appreciative noises Carter's making would get him hard again if he wasn't still recovering. And no, Carter doesn't like _all_ the same tricks, but he's being vocal enough that Dean doesn't have a problem telling which ones work for him. He thinks Carter's maybe even making noise on purpose to get him trained in what turns _him_ on.

When he decides he's probably teased Carter enough, he licks his right palm, getting it good and wet. He starts jacking Carter off, gauging how fast and how hard as best he can since he's not doing this to himself. Carter's eyes are glazed over, and the sounds he's making are damn near continuous, so he must be doing all right at it.

He bites down on Carter's shoulder, just far enough over that a T-shirt should cover it. Last night taught him some of Carter's hot spots, too. That works way better than he expected--Carter comes as he does. And if volume is any indication of how good a job he's done, he definitely made the grade.

******

Dean's been under for almost three weeks convincing a brand new set who're _claiming_ to be part of 18th Street that "Dean Hardison" is the answer to their weapons supply issues. He's spent a good chunk of it getting high, actually--this crew doesn't seem like they can last more than a few hours between blunts, and when he said 'no' the first time, it didn't go over too well. Dean's just glad they seem to be sticking to 18th Street rules about not using hard drugs--weed's one thing, but he's not interested in having to detox, or worse go to rehab, after this is all over with. He's been drinking _palo azul_ every night, trying to make sure if he gets popped for a drug test he won't come up dirty.

Given their general level of disorganization, the fact that he's actually had some private time with computer access isn't all _that_ shocking. He's really surprised that it's taken this long to get them to a point where they can bust them for anything major, because they've been careless in so many ways he can't begin to count them. He's also surprised they managed to stay sober long enough to get on police radar. He's guessing the 18th Street claim accounts for that--maybe somebody hoped that busting these guys would do some damage to the overall gang. Dean really doubts it--if he was a shotcaller, _he_ wouldn't trust them with anything more than minor shit and maybe not even that. Hell, if 18th Street wasn't pretty loosely knit, he'd expect the older sets to come down _hard_ on these idiots about the use of their name for street cred.

But as undercover assignments go, he's had a lot worse, despite feeling like this is pretty much a waste of his time and LAPD's money. He's told Carter as much in the brief conversations they've had, and Carter's agreed with that but told him he still needs to get the goods on them anyway.

Using those moments of privacy to research possibilities for exploiting Carter's kinks beyond the gloss he's already worn a few times is a great antidote to the near-boredom, though. So is jacking off thinking about what indulging those kinks might do to Carter.

His search turned up a couple different stores that cater to LA's cross-dressing and transsexual population. He's not planning on wearing a bra again _ever_, much less doing full drag, unless a case demands it, though. Even for Carter, there's a few things he won't do. And he's not too sure Carter would even appreciate it. He _thinks _what Carter actually gets off on is the contrast between Dean's macho side and the side of him that likes lipgloss and sensual fabrics. He's kept the earrings, safety risk or not. And somewhere down the line when Carter's more comfortable with the whole kink thing, he thinks he might even get some dangles, because he thinks Carter would get a kick out of watching them move as he does.

Once he's home after the bust, free until the paperwork tomorrow, Dean wonders how far Carter would go--how _much_ Dean could get him to admit. It makes him curious, especially when _he's_ drawn to the lipgloss, brushing it on his own lips, tasting the thick, processed flavor. He hasn't had the guts to try anything besides clear or sparkly before now, but he wants to. Hell, he wants Carter to put it on him, because after having Esperanza do him up so he got an idea of what works for him, he knows he likes the intimacy of having someone else doing it more than he likes putting it on himself.

He also thinks he ought to _really_ blow Carter's mind and wear some feminine underwear like he'd originally planned, because whether or not Carter actually _admits_ he's got a genderfuck kink, the sex is always just that little bit better when he's taken a step in that direction. Not like it's anywhere near forgettable or bad the rest of the time, but him in gloss seems to kick Carter into high gear.

The web site for Illusions in West Hollywood sounds like it might have what he's looking for. They specifically mention they've got a makeup artist on site, and also that they sell guy sizes of girl underwear, both to _really_ do the girlthing and for guys who just like the feel but still want to look like they have a dick. Which is exactly what he needs.

He has to sit in Illusions' parking lot for a few minutes to get up the courage to step through their door. Doing this is acknowledging _his_ kinks, too. Because he's not only doing this for Carter--_he_ gets off on it just as much. Sure, _part _of the turn-on for him is what it does to Carter, but not all of it.

When he's finally ready, he's pleasantly surprised. This looks a lot like an upscale department store, which is something he can deal with. He heads to what looks like the lingerie department first, figuring he'll get an idea of what's possible before he actually asks for specific help. After a few minutes of being increasingly confused, he decides to throw himself on the sales staff's mercy.

The guy he asks for help looks a lot like Michael Lopez. For shits and giggles, he's been known to watch fictional TV shows that deal with the undercover thing when he's home, and he specifically remembers that episode where him and his partner had to cross-dress because he saw it just before he went under this last time. This guy isn't crossdressed, but his white shirt _does _have some ruffles and looks like silk. The black pants and loafers he's wearing look like standard guy issue, though.

"My name is Rafael. I notice you look like you could use some help. Don't usually do this?"

Dean wouldn't normally admit to being out of his depth with something, but since he's already doing something he never expected to do, he's willing to. "Yeah. I need some femme underwear that'll fit me, but I _don't_ want the smooth-front effect. I'm not doing full drag, and who I'm doing this for is probably going to appreciate the contrast."

"We have some that should probably work. Do you have any color or fabric preferences to help me find something for you?"

Dean figures he might as well get specific, since he asked. And he doesn't want to waste his time with stuff he _knows_ he doesn't want. "No white, pink, or florals. Nothing with skinny straps--they aren't comfortable. Wide lace trim works better. I'm trying for sexy, so probably something like a thong."

Rafael looks like he's thinking for a moment before replying. "With your coloring, you'd probably look better in deeper colors anyway. Maybe even black, although that's nearly a cliche by now. Do you know your hip and waist measurements? Because that's what we go by for rough sizing. You may not fit exactly, but it'll at least give us something to go by."

Dean knows what he used to be as a girl, but he doesn't have the curves now that he did then and he usually buys his guy underwear by letter size, not number. "No clue."

Rafael says, "Hang on a minute while I get a measuring tape. I'll let you do the actual measurement and just tell you where you need to put it."

Dean's glad about that. Having a strange guy touch him like that is _not _an experience he wants to have. It was weird enough having Ryan hit on him before Carter walked in and staked his claim. When they're through measuring him, Rafael motions him to a padded leather chair before he starts collecting styles for Dean's approval. He's not willing to commit a lot of money to this until he sees Carter's reaction considering being a girl for two weeks wasn't cheap.

The burgundy thong with the black lace trim looks like a nice combination of sexy and reasonably comfortable. There's a dark green/lighter patterned green one he likes, too.

Rafael nods when Dean makes his choices. "You have good taste. Those should flatter your coloring and build. Do you want makeup to match?"

Dean's a little embarrassed when he says yes. Rafael takes it in stride as he points out the makeup department and says to ask for Tallulah.

Dean's first impression is _God, whichever gender Tallulah is, still gorgeous. And probably taller than me._ He's not asking for the proper pronoun--he's pretty sure that's considered rude. He lays it on the line here, too. "I'm not interested in the full monty. Just some lip stuff that looks good on me and doesn't either break the bank or _feel_ nasty." He found out after trying that dark red 18-hour lipstick that he never wants to do that again. Yeah, the effects were a hell of a lot of fun and the _color_ worked, but his lips felt dry as hell until he finally got it off. He also found out that bright pink does _not_ look good on him, even if it looked okay in the tube.

Tallulah takes a long look at him before saying anything. "What have you tried already?"

"Bright pink looks really funny on me, I hate 18-hour stuff, dark red works pretty well color-wise...That enough to give you an idea?"

"Dark reds should look fairly good on you. _Some_ pinks might also work. Since you don't like 18-hour, I think you might want to go with the compromise version--doesn't stay on as well or as long, but it also doesn't feel as drying." Tallulah draws his attention to what's nearly a rainbow of lip color choices.

Dean's not entirely sure what's going to work here, but he picks two that are nearly the color of the burgundy thong he bought, one dark pink and one lighter.

Tallulah looks over his choices carefully before exchanging one of the dark reds and the lighter pink for new selections. "This pink looks like it'd be _too _light, and that's almost worse than too dark--neither really work well for most occasions. And the red's undertones won't work with your coloring."

When Dean looks at the new colors, he has to agree. Even with his limited experience, he can tell that they look better when he holds them up against his face in the mirror. He's got the basic clear and sparkly glosses already, but he's interested in knowing options there, too. "I like these. What kind of gloss options do you have? I'm mostly thinking about top coat stuff." He already knows Carter likes seeing him with just gloss on, so he'll probably like the extra shine over his lipstick.

"This is clear with a lip plumper. It actually tastes good, too, in case you or somebody else lick your lips. There's also a clear with sparkles, and it comes in a few different colors if you want."

"I want the clear and the sparkles, but not the colored. I'm trying for a little more dramatic effect than I think those would give." Which is true. If he's doing this for both of their kinks, he might as well do it right. "I also want something to keep all this in."

Tallulah reaches underneath the counter and pulls out a snap-closure snakeskin box that looks to be about a foot long by six inches wide. "This should give you enough storage space for what you're getting, what it sounds like you already have, and even to add a few extra if you like. It comes in pink, red, forest green, and black."

Dean may be getting done up, but he's still not a girl--he's not _about_ to get pink. And since he's not going to be doing anything with this but surprising Carter, he doesn't want basic black either--not like he needs to coordinate. "Can I see the red and green ones?"

He takes a look at them when Tallulah brings them out and decides on the green.

Tallulah rings him up for his makeup and case. He tucks them into the brown paper bag with handles that's already got the wrapped up underwear in it.

He walks out the door and drives to his apartment. When he gets there, he strips down naked. He wants clean clothes on when he sees Carter later. When he tries the burgundy thong on, he's surprised at how comfortable he feels both physically and mentally. Maybe this _should_ bother him, but he's already pretty much accepted he's obviously not entirely vanilla. And he's smiling thinking about convincing Carter that he actually enjoys this. He thinks pulling out his case of lip stuff will make a good start on that. And what he's wearing under his jeans should be the finishing touch.

When he's completely dressed again down to his boots, he calls Carter to tell him he's coming over. Carter sounds happy to hear from him, which isn't surprising considering they haven't had a chance to talk any way but professionally and not even much of that for the last three weeks. It's still nice to hear, though--he wouldn't have been completely surprised if the separation made Carter have second thoughts about their personal relationship.

He's surprised he doesn't hit anything on the way over, because his mind is definitely not on driving.

When he knocks on Carter's door, he's got his case in his left hand. He's still wearing the square studs Esperanza's daughter used to pierce his ears. Down the line, he thinks he'll get some new ones--hell, he _might_ even get Carter to get him some that he'd like to see on Dean if he's lucky.

Carter opens the door in a T-shirt and sweats, barefoot. Dean barely has a chance to lock the door behind him and put his case down on the shelf by the door before Carter's kissing him hello. Carter's got his hands on the back of Dean's head, using them to find the perfect angle. Dean's got his just under the waist of Carter's sweats, pulling their bodies closer together. Dean was already half-hard from the taboo nature of what he's doing, and feeling how fast Carter's getting hard against him is only getting him hotter.

Dean's the one who breaks the kiss to take a breath. Carter finally notices what Dean put down. "What's that?"

"Open it and find out." Dean's teasing Carter just a little.

Carter's eyebrows go up at the contents. And when Dean says, "You get to pick what you want to put on me," Carter's eyes light up like he just got the best surprise of his life. Dean thinks, _You ain't seen nothing yet_.

Carter chooses one of the dark reds and one of the sparkly glosses before he motions Dean to sit down on the couch. He opens up the lipstick first, slowly following the contours of Dean's lips with it. Dean's watching his hands, wondering what he's going to look like once he's done. When Carter's apparently satisfied with the results, he closes the lipstick and adds a layer of gloss. Dean can feel the burn of the plumper, and when he carefully licks his lips, he can taste it too. Carter's just staring at his mouth right now, so the first part of his mission is complete.

He wants to do the second part in Carter's bedroom. They've messed around a few times on his couch, but Dean likes having enough room to maneuver without having to keep a little bit of brain on not falling off. And fuck if he's doing this on the floor when Carter's got a _very_ comfortable bed not far away. When he gets up, Carter starts heading in that direction. Dean's following, wishing the loose clothes Carter's got on didn't hide the curve of his ass.

Carter's pulling off his shirt as he walks down the hall. Dean's a little amused, thinking _Good thing his door's open--I'd hate to have him bump into it._ Dean waits to take his off until he's actually in the bedroom, standing by the mirror above Carter's chest of drawers. It doesn't give a _perfect_ view of the bed, but right now it's giving him a good view of the two of them. And he's starting to understand Carter's kink more than he did--seeing the contrast between his burgundy lipstick and earrings and his ultrashort hair is turning _him_ on.

Once both of their shirts are off, Carter kisses him again. This time softer, more carefully, like he's trying not to smear Dean's lipstick. Maybe that _shouldn't_ be hot, but hell, most of this scenario shouldn't be hot, so Dean isn't bothered that he's getting increasingly turned on. Especially since he's still watching in the mirror.

Carter drops to his knees before unzipping the jeans Dean put on earlier and shoving them all the way down so Dean can step out of them. He doesn't seem to realize what Dean's wearing underneath them at first, but when he does, he makes up for lost time. Carter's licking him through the already-damp fabric, getting it good and wet as Dean gets even harder. When Dean's about ready to beg, Carter shoves the fabric to the side with one hand as he's reaching in the top drawer with the other. Carter opens a condom package and leaves it on top the chest of drawers before slicking up his fingers.

When he starts going down on Dean for real, no fabric in the way, he starts working his fingers into Dean as well. Carter's going teasingly slow with both his mouth and his fingers, and Dean isn't sure whether he wants to move forward to get his dick deeper in Carter's mouth or backward to fuck himself on Carter's fingers.

Dean's embarrassed at the sound of protest he makes when Carter pulls his mouth off and his fingers out. And very surprised when Carter hands him the opened condom packet as he turns around, kicks his sweats off, and braces himself against the edge of the chest of drawers. Everything Carter's just been doing was geared to make Dean think _he_ was going to be the one getting fucked. Apparently Carter likes a little mindfuck too. Or maybe he just thinks getting fucked by Dean while he's still half-done up is even kinkier than fucking him like that, which actually kind of makes sense.

He reaches for the lube Carter was using on him earlier after rolling the condom on. When Carter stops his hand, only to say "Don't bother. What do you _think_ I was doing between when you called me and when you got here?" Dean has to bite his lip and take a couple deep breaths to not come then and there at the image of Carter opening himself up and probably taking his time doing it. He _really_ wants to see that for real. He thinks Carter would appreciate seeing him getting done up, too. Maybe down the line, they'll do that for an appetizer.

For the moment, though, he's just going to do his best to prove that Carter letting him drive isn't a mistake by giving him the best ride he can. They may trust each other with their lives on the job, but he's oddly honored that Carter's trusting him this intimately as well. If he _can't_ hang on, he's got no objections whatsoever to getting Carter off however he wants, but he really wants him to come from the fuck.

He's still pretty damn turned on, but he takes his time sliding into Carter anyway. He's fucking him as slow as he can stand--Carter may be prepped, but he still feels damn tight, and he's enjoying the tease besides. Carter's watching him in the mirror. He's dropping kisses and the occasional bite across Carter's back and shoulders in between thrusts. The lipstick traces he's leaving are only getting him hotter. He's starting to sweat now with the effort he's using to not fuck Carter as hard and fast as he _wants_ to.

Dean's really doubtful that he can get Carter to come _just_ fucking him, so he starts jacking him, stuttered and uneven. He's not doing anything fancy, but it makes Carter tense, muscles rippling under Dean and around him, until he feels Carter's come, hot and thick, coating his hand.

That's enough to get him off too. He slumps against Carter, mouth pressed to sweat-slick skin, as waves of pleasure make him weak and empty and brightness flashes behind his eyes. Staying here, like this, Carter close and exhausted, is too much of a temptation to resist. So Dean slings one shaking arm around him and closes his eyes.

Dean's not sure how long they stay like that, collapsed against Carter's chest of drawers. He finally comes to enough to realize they'd probably both be more comfortable in bed, either just to sleep or for another round when they're a little more recovered. He's still buried in Carter, so he pulls out as carefully as he can before offering Carter a hand up.

Carter takes Dean's hand before using it to bring Dean down onto his bed with him.

Dean's eyes close again, and he feels himself sliding into a true sleep this time. He's wrapped up in Carter, and what would normally make him feel trapped just feels _right_. The last thought through his brain is _**later**__ is soon enough for tricks or talking or whatever the fuck else Carter might want.  
_

Fin


End file.
